


I'll Cover You

by MarvelousMusings



Category: Black Panther (2018), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anxiety, Bucky Barnes Has Panic Attacks, F/M, Fluff, Friends fight, Hurt/Comfort, POV Bucky Barnes, Shuri is Tired, Stress, blood mention, but they also reconcile, haircut, like a little angst, rated for language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2021-01-02 05:30:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21156404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarvelousMusings/pseuds/MarvelousMusings
Summary: Bucky Barnes had been in Wakanda for two weeks when he decided it was time. He’d been healing, coming into himself. But after the first week, when he’d finally willed himself to take a look in the mirror, all he could see was the Soldier.





	I'll Cover You

**Author's Note:**

> Please pardon the weak as heck introductory section. I just needed something - anything - to get this show on the road, so here we are. XD

"Bucky, this is _progress,_" Shuri practically cheered as he let out an exerted huff and she pulled the paper from under his nose, "You can look at _all of your triggers _now and be able to-"

"It's not _good _enough," he growled, flopping back in his chair, "It's still _in _there. I can feel it."

"But you can _control _ it now and that is what is important," she insisted. Taking a deep breath, she let herself settle in her excitement before taking the seat across from him, "I _have _to remove the programming in increments or there's no telling what sort of damage could be done to your memory, the inner workings of your brain. This is all highly experimental, but the progress that you've made...it's good. Excellent, I'd say."

"I still think we should be doing more than one session a day, Princess. I think-"

"Fine," she said, crossing her arms and sitting back in her chair even as the corners of her mouth ticked upward, "You want to risk turning into a vegetable, be my guest. The words are right there," she remarked, nodding toward the paper sitting on the desk between them.

He only stewed from a moment longer before letting out a gruff hum and running his hand over his face and through his hair, "I'm sorry. I'm just getting glimpses of how I used to feel - before - and...I'm ready for that to be _it. _You know?"

"I think I understand," she said, nodding slowly as she wracked her brain for something - anything - that might be able to help him along in coming back into himself before landing on what she imagined could be the perfect thing, "Bucky."

"Yeah, Princess?"

"Tell me if you think this is a bad idea."

*

Shuri had picked the barber. She’d set the date. All he had to do was show up, which he’d done without complaint.

He’d accompanied Shuri into town that morning where they’d stopped off for a quick breakfast before she’d left him with hasty directions to the barbershop she’d booked him into. And with that, she’d left to do her shopping with her guard in tow. His head was spinning, his palms sweating.

Bucky had been sat in the same sterile, plastic chair for nearly half an hour, hands wrung together, waiting patiently to get his appointment over with. As much as he wanted it done, he had to admit that it made him uneasy, having another person that close to him with tools sharp enough to inflict damage. It was unsettling to say the least. But he sat there, waiting for his barber to finish with an earlier client, he could feel his heart beginning to thump harder against its cagings.

“Barnes?” the barber called, pulling Bucky from his reverie.

Pushing down his discomfort, he forced a smile onto his face and took the other man’s hand in greeting, “That’d be me,” he said, his eyes trained on the floor as he was ushered into a spinning chair.

“What are you looking to have done today?” the barber asked as he whipped a cape from its hanger on the wall, clipping it securely around Bucky’s neck.

“High and tight,” he grumbled around the lump in his throat, “Just...quick as you can, please.”

“Shall we...do something about this?” he asked quietly, eyeing Bucky’s beard with unconcealed disdain.

Bucky took in a shaky breath, watching himself in the mirror. He was vibrating visibly, “I, um, yeah, I guess you’d better.”

The next few moments went by in a blur as the barber applied shaving cream and brushed his hair away from his face, securing it with a tie. The buzzing in Bucky’s ears was enough to make him sickeningly dizzy and his eyes followed the straight razor as the barber went about checking its bite.

He practically leaped out of his skin when the barber let a hand fall to his shoulder, “You need to try to stay still, Sergeant Barnes,” he murmured, their eyes meeting through the mirror, “Are you feeling alright? You’re looking a bit...green.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m alright,” he said with a thick swallow, “Just go ahead and...uh...get it done, please.” He sat, still as a statue, his fingers gripping firmly at the armrest as the barber let out a doubtful sigh and approached once again. A finger reached up from under the cape to relieve a bit of the strangling pressure around his neck before Bucky closed his eyes, taking a breath to steady himself once more. His teeth gritted and his nails dug into his palm so hard that they left little crescents. He could manage, he was sure of it. But when the warmth of the barber’s hand came close once again, Bucky’s hand shot out, clamping down on the closest thing to him - the razor in the barber's outstretched hand.

“Sergeant Barnes!” the barber gasped, throwing a towel over Bucky’s severed palm, “Bast-”

“You know, I think I changed my mind, Pal,” Bucky murmured, leaping to his feet and ripping the cape from around his neck. He stumbled away from the chair, wiping away the shaving cream with the corner of the cape, dropping it to the floor before digging in his pocket and pulling out several notes, “For your,” he choked, letting out a cough as he tried to catch his breath, “for your troubles. Uh, thanks.”

With that, he was out the door, clamoring onto the street. The world was spinning, his hand searing, and his heart thumping. Bucky paced back and forth across the sidewalk, entirely unaware of the guard who came running up with Shuri in tow.

“Go get some water, please,” Shuri whispered to her bodyguard before reaching out for Bucky, steering him toward the barbershop’s stoop, “Bast...what in the hell happened?” she asked softly, eyeing the rag that he had looped around his hand. By that point it had been drenched thoroughly in blood.

“I don’t know. I could...hear everything and...you know, I just didn't feel very well. I couldn’t breathe with that...thing...around my neck,” he gasped. Panting heavily, he leaned forward on his elbow and ripped his hair from its elastic, allowing it to fall in curtains around his face, “I can’t breathe.”

“Okay,” she nodded, guiding him toward a bench before taking a seat, pulling him down alongside herself. Shuri dumped the paper takeout bag that she’d had clutched in her hand, holding it up for him to take, “You’re panicking. Just breathe into the bag, Buck,” she murmured, running a hand in comforting circles over his shoulders, “You’re okay. Breathe. Slow.”

Moments passed and Shuri's guard returned with a cup of water, retreating just as fast, “Good,” Shuri whispered with a reassuring smile as his breathing evened, “Good. Here, drink.”

He took the cup in shaking hand and swallowed it down in one, “Feel better?” Shuri asked, her hand resting at the small of his back, relieved when he finally nodded, “Can I look at that?” she continued, holding out her hand for his own.

“Sorry,” he grumbled, unwrapping his hand and holding it out for her to examine. “Bast, how did you do to manage that?” she gasped, her eyes widening when she saw the full scope of the damage.

Bucky let out an equally shaky laugh, “I may have ripped a straight razor out of the guy’s hand.”

“Well, you are lucky you didn't saw your entire hand in half,” she admitted, with another sigh as she let his hand drop to his lap, "If you come up to the lab when we get back, I can fix this.”

*

“Alright. There you go,” Shuri said, letting out a satisfied sound as she finished suturing Bucky’s wound, “Does it feel alright?”

“It’ll heal fast and that’s all that matters,” he said, easing himself off of the examination table, “Thank you, Princess.”

“You don’t need to thank me; you know that,” she insisted, ducking her head, before biting at her lip hesitantly and popping back up, “Do you want to talk about it, Buck?”

“Talk about what?” he grumbled, heading for the door.

“James Barnes,” she all but snapped, pressing a hand against the door in order to block his exit, “you had a massive panic attack in the middle of Bernin Zana. It’s worth discussing.”

“There ain’t anything to discuss,” he said with an obviously forced air of calm, “I got worked up. But I’m alright now.”

Letting out a huff, she gave him a knowing look, “Buck, it’s alright.”

He balanced his options. Remaining silent had its merits, but then again he also knew that she was going to continue asking until she got to the crux of it all; she had that way about her. He had to tell her.

“Just...try not to...I don’t know…”

She reached out for his hand, gripping interlocking his fingers with hers as she guided him away from the door, “Buck, there isn’t any shame in it.”

“I could, um,” he swallowed harshly, stuffing his hand into his pocket, “I could hear the guy next to me with the electric clippers and I couldn’t breathe with that thing around my neck. It reminded me of...you know.”

“It reminded you of being held captive,” she finished for him, taking a seat on the examination table and watching as he paced, “You weren’t in any danger.”

“Of course I know that, but...I don’t know; it didn’t matter in the moment.”

Shuri sat in silence, allowing him to divulge himself in a way that he hadn’t up to that point. She couldn’t find it in herself to interrupt, only to nod along when appropriate, until she realized that he had stopped, staring expectantly in her direction.

“You weren’t listening to the last part, were you?” he asked with a crooked smile.

She shook her head, burying her face in her hands, “I’m sorry,” she conceded, “Try again.”

“I said your fast-acting salve worked. Look at this. It's practically good as new,” he said, holding his hand out for her inspection.

“Bast,” she murmured, taking hold of his hand and examining it closely, “that's incredible. It usually takes a _bit _longer than that.”

“You’ve never it on an _enhanced persons_, have you?” he asked with a chuckle as she rolled her eyes.

“I suppose you’re right. I can take the sutures out now or we could wait for tomorrow for good measure.”

Bucky thought about it for only a moment before hopping back up onto the examination table with his hand outstretched, “No time like the present,” he said simply, watching as she went to work collecting the things she needed.

In the next minute, she was pulled up beside him on a wheeled stool, scissors in one hand and her nose mere inches from his palm as she worked to remove her work, “No pain?”

“Nothin' I can’t handle,” he assured her, watching with interest as she removed the final suture, giving his hand a stretch, “See? Perfect Good as new.”

“Yes. My work was excellent, wasn’t it,” she said with a wide smile, “What’s on your mind, Buck?” she asked, watching as his eyes darted around her tray of tools.

“Could you do it?” he asked, a blush creeping up his neck, “I mean, you’ve got scissors right there…”

She couldn’t help but let out a laugh at that, “You want me to give you a haircut,” she guffawed, shaking her head, “Buck, I don’t know how.”

“Can’t be that hard, can it?”

“Well if it’s so simple why don’t you do it?”

“Shuri,” he grumbled, giving her an earnest look, “I trust you.”

She let out a sigh, letting her head tilt to one side as she appraised him. He needed this, she knew. If a bad haircut was what it took to get him back to feeling himself, then she knew she had to concede.

“Fine. Give me those,” she grumbled with a small smile, standing up and making her way to stand directly behind him, “I’ll do my best, but I make no promises.”

“You’ll do alright,” he assured her, letting his eyes flutter closed as he felt her fingers run through his hair, “You’re sure you want me to do this?” she asked one final time, “I put a lot of effort into teaching you how to care for this mop of yours,” she chided.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

To her surprise, he never once showed an ounce of discomfort, none of the panic from before.

“Alright, then,” she sighed, taking a section of hair between her fingers. And with a deep breath, she began to cut.

*

“Buck,” Shuri sighed, trying her best to keep her laughter out of her voice, even as her shoulders shook of their own accord, “this is really bad,” she conceded, sifting her fingers through his hair as she desperately tried to even out the hack job that she’d done.

“Come on, Princess; it can’t be that bad,” he chuckled, taking the hand mirror that she passed over his shoulder.

He pursed his lips together, swiveling his head from one side to the other as she took a step back. Shuri could just make out the mortification donning in his eyes, “Okay. So...maybe it is that bad.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Shuri stifled a laugh as it morphed into a yawn. It had gone from mid-afternoon to dark in the time it had taken her to give him his new "_hairstyle_" and they were both beginning to look worse for wear. Dropping the scissors onto the examination table, she covered her mouth with her hand, “I did warn you.”

“You’re right,” he cackled, shaking out the shaggy mess atop his head, “You sure did, Sugar.”

“Bucky, we’ve got to get this fixed,” she sighed, shifting his hair from one side to the other to try to find the least awful position for it to sit, “I think we need to go back to that barber.”

“I don’t know,” he murmured, eyeing himself once more, “It ain’t that bad.”

“You just agreed that it was terrible,” she chided, “You know you need to go get this taken care of. If I call right now we can probably catch somebody before the shop closes for the night.”

“Shuri…”

“I’ll go with you.”

"I don't know-"

"Do you want to walk around look like _this _in front of everybody you've ever met?" she asked curtly, her hands clasped together in front of her.

"Well, no, but-"

"Then I suggest you don't argue."

*

“She really did a number on you, Love,” a new, female barber chuckled, taking stock of the damage, “Though you’re in luck. It won’t take long at all for me to fix this.”

“Use a towel, not a cape,” Shuri insisted firmly, giving the barber a look suggesting that she was not in the mood to be challenged, “And I’ll pull up a chair if you don’t mind.”

“Actually, Princess-”

Shuri gave her one final glare to shut her down before taking a seat alongside Bucky and gripping his hand in her own. He noticeably relaxed when her fingers stroked the inside of his palm, “I've got you,” she mused.

With his hand in hers and her encouraging words in his ear, the job of having his hair cut didn’t seem nearly as frightening. She was, he realized as the barber went about brushing out several knots, an anchor that kept his anxieties - not at bay - but manageable.

“Alright, you’re all done,” the barber finally said, removing the towel from Bucky’s shoulders, “I take it you won’t be having anything done today in regards to the facial hair.”

“No,” Bucky sighed in relief as he leapt up, eager to be out of the chair, “That’s...enough for today, I think.”

“I agree,” Shuri nodded, handing the barber several notes, “Thank you for staying late for us. We appreciate it.”

“Anything for the Princess,” she said, giving her a shallow bow as she and Bucky made their way out into the crisp night.

Minutes passed as the two walked along the path back to the palace in genial silence, until Shuri’s voice finally broke through it, “I’m proud of you,” she said plainly.

Her praise caused a deep heat to rise from his neck and into his ears, “You had to hold my hand through the whole thing, Shuri,” he said dejectedly, “You ain’t got a reason to be proud; I got a reason to be embarrassed.”

“Well, a week ago you wouldn’t have been able to set foot in there. You were brave. So what if you needed a little...encouragement.”

He let out a frustrated huff, shaking his head, “I can’t think of another grown man who needs encouragement at the barber’s-”

Shuri stopped then, so abruptly that he nearly crashed into her right there on the sidewalk. When she turned, her lips were pursed and her eyes searing, “Are you done?” she asked in short order, her fingers laced tightly in front of herself.

“I-”

“I’m serious. I just need to know because if you’re going to do the whole self-pitying thing for the entire time you’re here in Wakanda, I’ll make sure to keep you at an arm’s length,” she said, her arms crossing in front of herself then. He wasn’t quite sure whether to laugh or recoil, but he was certain that the inevitably dumbstruck look on his face was not doing him any favors. Of all of the reactions he would have anticipated from the princess,_ this_ hadn’t been one of them,

“I’m...sorry?” It came out as a question more than a statement. In all truth he wasn’t at all sure how he was meant to react, but it was clear his reaction had not satisfied her because she showed no sign of moving. There, blocking the pedestrian traffic in the middle of Bernin Zana, they stood off.

“_Stop being sorry_,” she snapped, “Bucky, you have been here two weeks. Did you really expect two weeks to be all it would take to undo seventy years of conditioning? It isn’t a neat and tidy process. The technology, the science, it’s new. I am doing everything I can. I know it isn’t good enough, but I am. And it’s really..._fucking annoying_ that you can’t just be patient and-”

His eyes met hers then as realization seemed to dawn for the both of them. Shuri’s mouth clamped closed as she froze - a deer in headlights. The words had clearly tumbled out her mouth before she could have even thought to stop them, but they settled there nonetheless - heavy between them. Stunned as they both were, though, the world continued moving around them. Nothing stopped.

They were pulled from their reverie in quick succession as a bicyclist scorched past, clipping Bucky’s leg and very nearly glancing Shuri as well, “We should get back,” Shuri murmured, turning on a heel. 

They took the trek to the car in silence. The ride back was filled with nothing but the sound of air rushing past the cracked windows. And when they got back to the palace, they went their separate ways, Bucky to his quarters.

He’d flopped back onto his bed with a book in hand, intent on reading into the early hours. Of course, every time he cracked the thing open and set his bookmark to the side, Bucky couldn’t quite bring himself to focus on the words on the page. It was her words that continued to ring in his ears instead. _I am doing everything I can. I know it isn’t good enough._

In that moment, he’d never felt more guilty.

Aside from Steve, Shuri was his first and only friend, his confidante. She’d been the only person to argue on his behalf in front of the council. She was probably the only reason that they’d granted him the asylum that they had. And yet, Bucky had never taken a moment to consider what toll his simply _being there _was taking on her. Two weeks of little to no sleep, nights spent in the lab, few successes followed inevitably by major failures…

It was these thoughts that carried him down the corridor, out into the foyer and toward the staircase leading to the lab. Bucky didn’t have the first clue what he was going to say once he’d gotten there and try as he did to wrack his brain, he couldn’t come up with anything that would convey his sincerity. The last thing he’d wanted was to be a nuisance, to cause her any undue stress or pain.

“Princess?” he murmured, knocking on the solid door when he’d finally come upon it. There wasn’t a Dora Milaje in sight. Bucky had known Shuri to turn her guards away at a certain point in the night. No matter how late she worked she always made sure to send them away at a decent hour to ensure they were well-rested for their next duty.

“Are you alright?” she asked pointedly, coming to the door and shoving it open to allow him in, “Are you having trouble sleeping?”

Her words came out detached, her eyes flat. It was obvious that she was exhausted, beaten down.

“I’m okay,” he conceded, raking a hand over his face as he paused at the threshold, “I’m...I’m – sorry.”

The words came out before he could stop them and he regretted it as soon as they had. With a frustrated huff she turned and stormed back into the lab with Bucky tight behind her, “Bast, if I have to tell you one more time-”

“I’m not apologizing about...what happened,” he continued, a hand held out in front of himself as if to keep her at bay and draw her in in equal measure.

“Then what the hell else do you have to be sorry about, Bucky Barnes?” Shuri questioned, wheeling on him then with her hands on her hips, “Hm?”

“I guess I could start with apologizing for being an ungrateful bastard,” he said with a shrug.

And God almighty, he knew that that could have gone one of two ways.

But after a moment, her features began to soften noticeably and he took that as his cue to continue, “I – I mean that. I’m sorry that I didn’t realize what all of this is doing to you. I was a shit friend. I guess I just...I started...not feeling the way I used to, but remembering how I felt back then. And up until two weeks ago, I hadn’t had that, so I guess I was chasing that feeling...if that makes sense.”

“It doesn’t,” Shuri said, her lips pulling upward into a tight half-smile, “But I think I understand the sentiment. Come here,” she murmured, holding a hand out for him.

Bucky stood struck, not for the first time that day, “What?”

“I’m going to hug you, you old goat,” she chuckled, taking his hand then and pulling him in tightly to herself, “I’m sorry I snapped.”

“Nah, I needed sense knocked into me,” he chuckled, pulling away then to find her yawning into his shoulder, “How long have you been up here?”

“Since we got back,” she admitted sheepishly.

He whistled low, “Do you even know what time it is?”

“What? Like...eleven. I think.”

“More like three in the morning, Princess. You need to sleep.”

Shuri shrugged, “It doesn’t matter. I work until I’m done.”

“Not tonight, you don’t. You’re going to sleep now and you’re going to stay asleep until noon tomorrow. And I’ll make sure breakfast is sent to your quarters so you won’t even have to leave for that. You need rest and a lot of it.”

She let out an exasperated huff even as he began ushering her out of the lab, “I don’t really look that bad, do I?”

“Yes, you _really_ do,” he replied flatly.

“You really know how to flatter a girl, don't you, Barnes,” she said, throwing an amused look over her shoulder at him.

And the banter continued, down the staircase, through the foyer, until they arrived at the split corridor where he was to go one way and she the other. Before they parted, she turned to him once more, “I want you to come by the lab tomorrow. I have another prototype arm that I would like for you to try. It’s got heat and light sensors and a built-in-”

“Shuri?”

“Yes?”

“Quit talking shop,” he chuckled with a shake of his head, and in the next moment he was giving her a shove toward her quarters, “_Goodnight, _Princess.”

She watched him with a smile then as he turned in the direction of his own quarters, sparing just one more hasty look over his shoulder, “Goodnight.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment if you enjoyed! <3


End file.
